


Sherlolly Feels

by Allonsy_Elize



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:17:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allonsy_Elize/pseuds/Allonsy_Elize
Summary: I just needed some Sherlolly, so I thought I would add my little one shot on here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't watched The Lying Detective, please stop. Don't read this.

“I have a plan.” He looked up from his phone as his fingers kept typing. This was one thing she couldn’t take, all the rudeness and the blank stares and the constant interruptions were bearable, but typing while she talked really got on her nerves. She looked down at the phone as he kept tapping at the screen. “Well?” He finally stopped, “Well what Sherlock?”

Molly looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to ask me what my clever plan is?” He looked at her expectantly. “You didn’t say that it is a clever plan, you just said you had a plan.”

He couldn’t stop but huff an exasperated breath at her. “Somedays I wonder if you aren’t as smart as I thought.” Molly rolled her eyes at him before walking away. She went into the kitchen, not being surprised that the place was a mess. “You can’t even see that Mrs Hudson was here this morning.” She placed the mugs on the counter, preparing to make some. 

“I can’t stand when she cleans, she ruins my research every time.” He sat down at the table watching Molly.   
She shook her head “She isn’t your housekeeper, you should be able to keep this place clean.” He watched her move around the kitchen, she was elegant in her movements, all her moves were calculated, she was efficient at this. “Well she does such a good job of it, I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”  
Molly placed a mug in front of Sherlock, “You were saying that you have a plan.” Sherlock looked at the tea, moving the mug around.   
“Yes, that. You might not like it, but I need your help.” Molly couldn’t help but blush. Sherlock finally took a sip of his tea, grimacing at the taste.   
“I need you to go to this address in 2 weeks,” he pulled a piece of paper from his housecoat, “Exactly, and at that time, not 10 minutes before or after, exactly that time.” She looked at his handwriting on the page, as always it was scribbled in haste. “Why this address?” she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Just be there,” taking another sip of the tea, he shook his head, moving the mug away. “Oh and don’t forget the ambulance.”

Sherlock stood and walked towards the living room, falling into his favourite seat he steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, watching her thoughtfully. Molly followed him, the piece of paper still in her hand. “Why this address, who lives here?” she couldn’t help the panic that was rising within her.   
“What are you up to Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock shook his head, “If I told you, you might give away the plan.” Molly shook her head, pocketing the paper. “I wouldn’t. I kept your secret for 2 years, Sherlock, having to stand by while John and everyone else was mourning for you.” Her voice started to get higher. “Pretending that I am just as sad as they are, while you were hiding at my flat.” 

“This time you will, there is a difference in circumstance.” He took out his phone, his fingers flying across the keys. Molly started moving towards the door, taking her coat. “Oh yes, and it would be great if you didn’t come around for the next couple of weeks.” Sherlock looked up at her, registering the look on her face. Molly froze with her hand on the doorknob. “You don’t want me here?” she asked, her voice cracking on the last word. 

“Just stay away Molly, you will ruin the plan.” She looked at him over her shoulder. There was a look of concern on his face. “Sherlock please tell me, what are you going to do? Why should I be there with an ambulance?” Sherlock stood up, walking towards her, he placed his hand over hers on the door, “I told you, I always want you, Molly, just not for the next 2 weeks.” 

Molly looked up at him, anger boiling inside of her, pushing his hand away she opened the door, “Well I don’t know if I want to hang around and see you do whatever it is you are doing, goodbye Sherlock.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her. Sherlock sagged against the door, he hated what he had to do, but Mary’s words were clear. “Go to hell Sherlock.” He couldn’t do that while Molly was clucking around him.

***

The next two weeks were hell for Molly, every time she caught herself she was already on her way to 221B Baker Street, or picking up her phone to text him about a new corpse that has come in. 

Her assistant must’ve thought she was mental when she was smiling at an elderly man who came in, his back covered in welts were his lover had beat him with a riding crop before he had a heart attack. 

She was pacing her small office, holding the piece of paper in her hands. It was worn by this time, she had looked at the address so many times. She knew it off by heart by now. 

“Mrs Hudson, it’s Molly. I was wondering how Sherlock was doing?” she finally caved, phoning his landlady. “Don’t even ask dear, he has really lost it this time. Moving about all times of the day and night. John hasn’t been round since Mary died, I think it really hurts Sherlock.” Molly sighed, why would he push her away if he already missed John. “Why don’t you pop round dear, come see for yourself.” Mrs Hudson asked. 

“I wish I could,” Remembering his strict instructions Molly started pacing, “We had a falling out, he told me to stay away.” That should keep the old woman happy, she knew never to meddle with Sherlock’s social life. “I think it would be better if you came over and made up Molly, I’m really worried about him.” Molly almost caved at this, would it really matter if she came a day earlier.

“I will see if I can get away.” 

She was ready to leave when a new body came in, this one baffled the police.

***

She was nervous, why was she nervous? She kept telling herself to calm down, there was nothing to worry about, the ambulance was parked behind her as she walked towards the door. Her hand was slightly shaking as she pressed the bell. 

When John opened the door she was quite surprised, almost relieved. “Hey, I’m sorry, Sherlock asked me to come.” She tried to explain quickly. He looked tired, haggard almost, there were so many questions running through her mind. “Two weeks ago?” he asked, blinking confusion written all over his face. “Yeah about two weeks.”

Sherlock walked through to the front door, as always pretending to be smart, but Molly was shocked. He looked like shit, he hasn’t shaved in weeks by what she could see, and from his hair, she took it that showering wasn’t high on his list. 

“Okay fully equipped ambulance, Molly can examine me on the way to save time.” He finally looked at Molly and she could see his pupils were dilated. “Ready to go, Molly, just tell me when to cough.” At this, she couldn’t stop the blush the crept up her neck and over her face. She looked helplessly at John, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you were going to be here.” She looked at Sherlock staggering towards the ambulance. “Do you have an idea what’s going on?” she asked John, trying to work out if Sherlock had given her any clues that he was going to do this. “Sherlock is using again.” He finally said. She could feel the colour draining from her face, again, after he promised her he wouldn’t. “Oh god, are you sure?” she asked, her voice cracking. “It’s Sherlock, of course, I’m not sure,” John said harshly. Turning towards the ambulance, she tried to block Mrs Hudson’s comment, wanting to focus on Sherlock. 

Climbing into the ambulance she watched Sherlock as he was spread out on the small ambulance gurney. His long frame was stretched out, making the already small space feel even more claustrophobic. “What on earth have you done to yourself?” the doors were closed behind her as she went to sit on the seat next to him. She grabbed a stethoscope from one of the hooks, “Unbutton your shirt.” She instructed, his usually tight shirt was looser, he had lost a couple of pounds since she last saw him. 

“I told you I had a plan, everything is going according to plan.” He said, trying to keep his eyes open. Molly listened to his heart, it was racing, too fast. She grabbed a flashlight, hovering over him, she shone it into his eyes, seeing the delayed reflex as the bright light flashed over his eyes. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself? Is that the plan?” she sat back in the seat, looking at Sherlock with her arms crossed. “Every time you do this Sherlock, you aren’t just killing yourself, you are hurting me.” She stammered, seeing the shock on his face. “I mean you are hurting all of us. John, Mrs Hudson, everyone.” Sherlock watched her carefully, not sure if it was the drugs or just his lack of social queues. 

Molly grabbed his arm, forcing the shirt up, seeing the telltale blue bruises from drug use. Grabbing an IV kit, she slapped his arm, waiting impatiently for the vein to pop. After a couple of minutes, she was able to get the line in, hooking it up to a saline drip to try sober him up.   
“Thank you, Molly,” Sherlock said as he closed his eyes. 

Arriving at the designated place, Molly leant over, she couldn’t make eye contact with Sherlock, she wasn’t sure if he even took in her comment that she made earlier. But she was mad, mad at herself for allowing this to happen, mad at Sherlock for keeping her away from him, she was even mad at John, for causing this.   
She grabbed the IV, pulling it out. “Ouch, that hurt,” Sherlock said as he took the cotton ball she had handed him. “Serves you right.” She said, walking to the door, she flung them open, sitting down on the step. She tried her best to stay as calm as possible, but he made it difficult for her. Why would he keep doing this to her, why would she let him?

The black limo arrived with John, and she felt her anger rising again as he stepped out, walking casually towards them.   
“How is he?” John asked, stopping in front of her. “Basically fine.” Sherlock answered with a chuckle. “I’ve seen healthier people on the slab.” Molly said, trying to keep herself from exploding at John. 

“Well to be fair, you work with murder victims. They tend to be quite young.” Sherlock said from behind her. “Not funny.” She said, her anger boiling inside her, how could he be so nonchalant about this? “A bit funny.” 

“If you keep taking what you are taking, at the rate you are taking it, you’ve got weeks,” Molly said, her heart racing at the realisation that she could lose him. That the great Sherlock Holmes is going to lose at his own game. 

“Exactly weeks, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He said jumping down from the ambulance. “For Christ sakes Sherlock, it’s not a game.” He finally turned to her, seeing the panic on her face. “I’m worried about you Molly, you seem very stressed.” He answered, the slight wrinkle between his eyebrows growing deeper. “I’m stressed, you’re dying,” Molly said, her palm begging her to slap his arrogant face. “Yeah, well I’m ahead then. Stress can ruin every day of your life. Dying can ruin only one.” Molly watched as he and John bickered between each other. Her anger growing with every sentence. 

She watched as the camera crew followed a slippery little man coming out of the building, there was something about him that made her feel very uncomfortable. She watched as Sherlock followed him into the building. The heart-stopping moment when he looked around, only to look at John, nearly broke her heart. Maybe it was true, she was only important when he needed her. 

Only there to patch him up every time he did something stupid. 

*** 

When her phone’s text alert woke her later that evening there was a small part of her that wanted to ignore it. Reaching for her phone she was surprised to see John’s name. 

“Sherlock in hospital. He asked to see you.” Her heart skipped a beat as she ran to get her coat.   
Walking through the quiet halls of the hospital, she braced herself. She found his name on the board at reception and rushed through to his room. She knocked softly before entering the room. His eyes were closed, and not just because he seemed to have been beaten by someone. Sherlock looked out of place, he didn’t belong in hospital beds, yet she kept finding him in them. 

His eyes flew open when she scraped the chair as she moved it closer. Sitting down she tried to stop the gasp when she saw his eye was bloodshot. “Who? Who did this?” she finally managed to ask. “It’s a long story, don’t worry about it.” He watched her carefully. Moving to see her better, he grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his side. Molly watched him closely. 

“You asked for me?” she finally asked. Sherlock looked startled, he opened and closed his mouth several times. “I, uh, I suppose.” He stopped and started the sentence a couple of times. “I have to apologise, Molly, I didn’t take into consideration that you would be worried.” He looked down at his hands, inspecting the site where the IV went in his hand. “You are an arse, Sherlock. I don’t know if I can keep doing this.” Sherlock looked at her. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, studying her face. “I don’t know if I can only hang around until you need me, or be here only when you need a doctor. You already have John.” Sherlock shook his head, “I don’t understand.” He sat up, trying to hide the pain from his face. “Please, you can’t leave me.” Molly shook her head, “You don’t get it Sherlock, I’m not as important as you say I am. I need stability, someone who will always look out for me.” She finally made eye contact with Sherlock.   
“But I can do that, please I told you, you are the most important woman in the world.” Molly stood, leaning towards him, she placed her hand lightly on his cheek. She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. Pulling away, she tried to stop the tears that were threatening. Sherlock grabbed her hand. Holding it to his cheek. “Please Molly, let me show you. I can change.” She shook her head, “I don’t think you can Sherlock, everyone else will always be more important, and I will always be the last to find out.” 

She turned away, Sherlocks’ hand holding hers in place. “Please Molly, I don’t usually ask for help. But I am now, I need your help to get off drugs, I need you, Molly.” She froze in place, feeling how cold his cheek was, his hand over hers, squeezing lightly. “Please.” He asked once more.


End file.
